200 years since
by Koppyo
Summary: Last year marked the 200 year anniversary. It was a painful day for not only Norway, but Denmark and Iceland as well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, guys. It's me, Koppyo. I took down the Ask the Nordics (And Koppyo!) fanfic because apparently, I unintentionally broke the "No script or chat format" entry regulation and got two reviews that (politely) berated me for it (despite not being related whatsoever). I was too excited to get asked, so I overlooked them. I would have said no, but I looked at the rules and wanted to keep my account out of suspension, so… there is that. And by the way, if you go to my previous fanfic, 200 years since, it is **deliberately historically inaccurate**. **It is Hetalia**. I urge you... Please don't let the one review refrain you from reading it. Thank you for your patience. As always, Enjoy the fanfiction and please be sure to review, favorite and follow. ON WITH THE STORY! I also urge those who have suicidal thoughts to tell the person they trust most… Don't make the mistake that Mathias had already made.

Lukas wearily placed the Norwegian flag coffee mug onto the dark wooden table, refraining the desire to slam it onto the sturdy, but delicate surface. Friday, April 1st, 2016 honestly wouldn't be a choice day to end the week, nor start the month. He usually referred to this day as "Mathias Køhler's day to fool around more than usual". He knew the Dane bothered him constantly with corny jokes and "cute" nicknames, but this was the day he prayed to God the most, other than going through times that were actually hard for him. On this day in particular, Mathias would do the same things… multiplied by three. Alfred Jones, Gilbert Beilschmidt and Mathias Køhler or the "Awesome Trio," some liked to call it, would do the same things that Mathias had done in the past, just in their way. However, that was not the case this year. Neither did Alfred or Gilbert show up… yet. Lukas couldn't help but smirk with a snide thought in his mind.

" _Alone time like this… must be too good to be true. Am I dreaming?_ "

Down the hall, a familiar spiky haired blonde sighed as he gazed into his forlorn, aquamarine eyes in his mirrored reflection. " _I see it now,_ " Mathias thought to himself. " _I see why everyone hates me._ " Little by little, he could already feel himself dying inside of his own mind and his heart. The aquamarine orbs once shone with youth and vigor, but have now dulled into a void despair. Today was the day he was not only giving up on everyone around him, but also the one whom he had loved, however had not shared his feelings.

" _You're homosexual now… man. You're disgusting._ "

He grasped and turned the brass knob to find a pale, golden haired Norwegian tapping his foot with an intimidating grimace, curving his lips downwards and crossing his arms. "You do know that there is a time we have to be on campus, right," Lukas snarkily stated. Mathias looked down with a blank expression. "I was thinking," he absentmindedly replied. "Wow! I didn't know you could think! Considering that your mind is too small to do it," the Norwegian taunted with a smirk. Mathias slightly grit his teeth and clenched his large right hand. He thrusted his open left hand towards Lukas's chest aggressively as he paced out of the doorway towards the garage. "Mathias, please! Don't be so rude," chided Tino, buttoning his navy blazer with the academy crest. "What is it, Tino? Think I won't do the same to you," Mathias inquired with a dark tone. Tino let out a small whimper as he took a hesitant step away from the Danish man. Mathias turned away from the Finnish man's frightened stare. "Voi Herra armahda minun sieluni…" Tino muttered to himself. The rest of the Scandinavian descent-related family got inside of the car.

" _This is it… this is a chance._ "

As Mathias shifted the the stick into drive and the wheels rotated down the road, he began to progressively press his foot harder on the pedal. Shouts of surprise and fear broke his pensive state.

"GOOD GOD, MATHIAS! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"

Mathias eased his foot off of the gas pedal as he turned to see Lukas's face with wide furious indigo eyes with his teeth gritted in anger. "Man, you can't even drive! Your Legoland driver's license doesn't apply to real life, idiot! Is this your meaning of an April fools joke, trying to kill us!?" It was enough. The now irritable driver pulled over to the curb, yanked on the silver car door handle and pushed it open.

"If you know everything about driving, why don't you do it?"

"WHAT? ARE YOU SER-"

Mathias had deliberately left the keys in ignition, so it shouldn't be that hard to drive the car. "MATHIAS, HOW DO YOU DRIVE THIS THING," Lukas shouted.

"F*** YOU GUYS I'M WALKING TO SCHOOL," Mathias shouted with a layer of annoyance.

A few minutes later, the group arrives at campus on the dot. (LUKAS IS A TERRIBLE DRIVER)

"Man, we are so lucky we made it," Emil panted to himself. Mathias dashed towards the wooden burnt-sienna doors and pushed them open with both of his muscular arms. As the dashed down the hallway, Lukas glared at Mathias, mouthing, "What is wrong with you?!" His furious gaze was avoided by a simple turn of the Dane's head. Lukas glared and grit his teeth until they finally reached the class door. The teacher turned his head in surprise.

"Wow, you're actually on time! Wait… Mathias Køhler, is this another one of your pranks?"

"No, sir," Mathias replied. The classmates around him started to murmur in confusion. Mathias slowly walked towards his desk in the back.

"Your class-starting assignment is to write a poem with a deeper meaning. Yes, it may be sad," the teacher instructed. Mathias smiled a bit. He knew deep in his heart that it probably would tug at a few heartstrings. As the other students began scribbling in their notebooks, Mathias moved his pencil with the words, flowing out of his mouth as if it were a busted dam with water flowing freely.

"That's time!" The teacher shouted. "For the sake of us all, I have a feeling I should choose Mathias to share his poem with us. Mathias, get up here." Some students groaned with annoyance. The spiky haired blonde was renowned for being a goofball rather than solemn and composed. "Go on, Mathias," the teacher chided. "You'd might as well get your prank in." A remnant of students couldn't help but snicker. Mathias sighed and looked at the paper.

" _You're right. I'd might as well…"_

 _Goodbye despair in which I am free of_

 _Goodbye world full of crows instead of doves._

 _Hello, God and angels up above_

 _Goodbye to whom I most love_

 _I understand, those who do not care._

 _All of us know this_

 _Life is never fair._

The class widened their eyes in shock. A quiet symphony of murmurs were audible as he walked back to his seat. Even the teacher was fazed. A few students wondered about the meaning of the poem itself. "O-okay, Mathias," quoted the nervous teacher. "What was the meaning?" Mathias turned to meet the teacher's eyes. "I'd rather not share the meaning," Mathias replied. "All I can say is that it might be something that I will do later today. And it's been scraped on my desk."

" _Scraped on his desk… what does it mean? Where is it scraped,_ " Lukas pondered to himself. "Maybe he's just being an idiot, since he was probably dropped on his head as an infant." Mathias glared at Lukas with clenched fists. A small amount of students uttered

"Ooooooooh" as the comment was announced. Mathias tittered, "And you consider yourself smart. If I was dropped on my head, I wouldn't be in this class… I wouldn't even have a life." The classmates snickered again.

"Yeah. you should be dead. Why are you still breathing," the Norwegian. "Never mind. Let's just get on with class, Mr. Braginsky." "That seems like a good choice, дa," Mr. Braginsky chirped with a smile on his face. Mathias cast a final glare at Lukas's "I could care less" face as he walked back to his class.

"Now class, let's get on with our lesson, shall we?"

Lukas stared at Mathias in surprise. He was _actually_ taking notes. He's taking the teacher so seriously that he was acting like as if it was the last thing he'll learn. " _Wait… was that why he said goodbye so much? Was that the stuff scraped onto his desk?_ " Lukas clenched his left hand and dug his fingernails into his palms. "Was that his joke… suicide?" The class felt as if it had gone for ages until the deafening sound of the bell ringing. Students instantly rose from their seats and headed to the cafeteria. Lukas gathered his things, yanked on Mathias's wrist in an aggressive manner and dragged him towards the lunch table. "What now," groaned the Danish adolescent as he felt his dark polished black dress shoes skid their rubber bottoms on the floor. Lukas growled, "We are going to talk about what was up with you in class today." Mathias whispered with a menacing tone,

"What if I _don't_ want to talk?"

"I… don't… _care_ ," Lukas replied with a glare as he pushed the carmel wooden doors, revealing what looked like a thousand students eating and drinking. Mathias took a sharp inhale through his nostrils as he struck Lukas's wrist with his fist.

"AAAAAGH," Lukas yelped in agony as he heard the bone snap. The students gasped as they saw Lukas grasp the fractured bone and collapse onto his knees. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TODAY!?" Mathias looked down to meet the Norwegian's tearful indigo eyes.

"I'm done with you." Lukas widened his eyes with confusion and hurt.

"W-what?"

"I'm done with you," Mathias repeated. The moisture at the edges of Lukas's eyes flowed freely. "Wh-what are saying," Lukas sobbed. "You're not serious, are you?" He shielded his eyes away as he lowered his head.

"So you care about me," Mathias stated with a cold tone. "Ugh. Disgusting." Lukas snapped his eyes open as he lifted his head.

"But," He added. "I don't like it when I see you in tears," He finished as he wiped the edge of Lukas's eyes and planted his lips against his forehead. Lukas shuddered and whimpered as he let out another sob. Mathias wrapped his arms under Lukas's shoulders and kissed the Norwegian's forehead again. Lukas immediately buried his face into Mathias's strong shoulders. While a few girls squealed, a majority of the men groaned in disgust. Emil rushed over to the hunched pair. "What happened," the Icelander shouted as he kneeled towards Lukas.

"I… hurt him," Mathias replies. Emil's eyes darkened as he fisted the Dane in the shoulder. "WHAT"S WRONG WITH YOU," Emil exclaimed. "FIRST THE INCIDENT IN WITH CAR, NOW THIS?! IT'S NOT AS IF YOU'RE GONNA DIE TODAY!" The words rung in in Mathias's head.

" _You're wrong, Emil. I am dying today, and there is nothing you will do about it."_

After a brief trip to the school's infirmary with the Norwegian's bandaged fracture, Lukas and Mathias made their way to their final class of the day, history. Neither had said a single word to the latter.

"That wasn't your April fools joke, right? Back in the cafeteria," Lukas queried.

"Oh… it was," Mathias confirmed. Lukas sighed in relief as the couple continued to make their way to the rather miniature classroom. As Mathias's large hand twisted the peculiarly lank doorknob, an elderly polite Chinese man peered over his shoulder with a grimace. "

It's about time," Yao grumbled through his thick native accent. "You almost late for being early!" Mathias pinched the bridge of his nose and used a free hand to support his elbow.

" _Not you again_ ," Mathias thought to himself. Today, compared to his regular teacher, Legolas Beilschmidt, it was his least favorite substitute… Wang Yao. Every student referred to him as "Mr. Yao" or "Yao-sensei".

"And so you don't distract your friends," Yao added with a smirk. "I have seated Alfred and Gilbert on other side of room. Try talking to them now." Mathias sighed again as he spotted Alfred frantically waving his hands. Mathias gave a rather less energetic wave in response. Alfred ceased his waving and his radiant smile disappeared from his face. Mathias respectfully paced to his seat next to Berwald, the person whom he had hated since the beginning of high school.

"I see someone's on time for class," Berwald teased with a smirk curling his usually motionless lips. "Shut up. I don't need that coming from someone who talks as if he still has resilient braces," Mathias replied with glare that did not meet the latter's piercing cobalt eyes blazing with frustration. "At least I have people who actually love me," the Swede retorted. Mathias clenched the desk with a forceful grip as he narrowed his aquamarine orbs.

"Today, we will be learning about the Stockholm bloodbath of 1520," Yao stated. "This was a day when at least 82 people were mercilessly slaughtered by Danish soldiers under the command of King Christian II, who had reigned from 1513-1523." The class directed their looks to Mathias, signifying that he was the only Danish person in the classroom.

"Wow, Danish people must be really messed up," Arthur, an English adolescent from London, shouted from the front. "Keep your tea slurping mouth shut, Arthur," Alfred declared as he rose from his desk and slammed his hands on the table. "It's not like we need a comment like that coming from someone who's ancestors tried to make America a colony again."

"Well, It's not as if my country's office candidate is someone who can barely keep their toupee down." Alfred let out a huff in defeat as he slumped into his seat. "When will that wrinkly hag give up the throne," he muttered to himself. Mathias scribbled his pencil on a large piece of paper "Don't worry. Queen Elizabeth sucks even more than Donald Trump." The other blonde turned towards the large note and snickered. Yao slammed his short staff onto the whiteboard.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, _Mathias_ ," the elderly Asian growled.

"Actually, yes. there _is_ something I'd like to share with the class," the Dane responded. "Alright, come up here." Mathias rose from his seat as he marched towards the front, glaring at the emerald eyed Englishman on his way.

"I…" The latter's voice trailed off. "Never mind. I forgot," he shamefully concluded. "That's right, Mathias. Keep that mouth of yours shut," shouted a random student from the back. The spiky blonde rolled his eyes as he made his way back to his desk, putting his self restraint level at a maximum to keep from from smacking his classmate in the back of his head. Gilbert shouted,

"At least I actually have girls in the class who want me. By the way, do you want some black olives and extra cheese to go with your face!?" Yao rolled his amber eyes in exhaustion and turned his head back to the whiteboard. As he continued to instruct the class, Alfred looked over to the Dane with fear in his sea blue eyes. This was not the Mathias Køhler he knew. They were the Awesome Trio, darn it! And this… this was anything _but_ awesome. The American returned to the iron-bordered plastic with a huff. "This incident was when 82 Swedish nobles were brutally murdered, like I said," Yao repeated with a layer of relief. "And the body of Sten Sture, the ruler of Sweden at the time, was excavated and burnt." Lukas turned his head towards Mathias in a concerned manner.

" _Something's wrong with him… Why can't I find it?_ "

The bell's cursed sound rang through the speakers in each classroom. Yao sighed with a relaxed expression. "Well, it's quitting time. Hopefully, none of you will see me on Monday," he chirped as he saluted. The class exchanged looks before they exited the classroom in herds of only 12 people. Alfred sprinted over to Mathias with a rather concerned look, Gilbert following in suit. Alfred informally asked, "Yo! what was up with you in class today?" Alfred started. Gilbert's voice boomed, "Ja! It's dragging your awesome meter to, like, zero, man!" Mathias sighed and shielded his tearful eyes away from the albino. Alfred's expression changed from confused to worried. The end of his eyebrows slanted upwards toward his hairline. "D-dude! Please don't cry," the American teenager pleaded. Mathias placed his hands onto one of Alfred's and Gilbert's shoulders.

"Can you guys keep a secret," Mathias quietly sobbed. Gilbert shouted, "Dude we are tight! Ain't nobody gonna hear about it but us!" Alfred signaled the Prussian by harshly placing his index finger on his lips. The Dane sighed as his grip became more constricting. "I..." he began. "Am going to die today."

Gilbert's eyes widened in shock. "Dude! You can't die! We're the Awesome Trio," he harshly whispered. "Well, I guess we'll now be the Awesome Duo," Alfred whimpered. He tightened his fist and shouted, "WHY DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS TO US!?" Tears welled up in the American teenager's eyes. Alfred rushed towards mathias with a solid clutch. "Please be joking! If it's a joke I'll laugh! Even if you want to make fun of me for it! I promise," Gilbert wept. It was unlike the albino to cry in front of anyone, but it was as if this time was an exception. "I need to get home, guys," Mathias coughed. Alfred released the Dane and backed away as if he hadn't done a single thing. Gilbert wiped his tears away with a final sniffle. "Geck, dies nicht tun…" he whispered. "I… am really sorry, guys," Mathias apologized for the final time.

Alfred sobbed, "Dude if you do this, we'll never see you again!" The Danish man smiled with tears flowing down his creamy-hued face, "You can just pretend that I'm there!"

As Alfred and Gilbert watched Mathias walk away, they couldn't help but sob into each others' arms.

"Idiot, I've been waiting for you," complained the Norwegian.

Mathias sheepishly chuckled ,"Sorry, I was saying bye."

"It doesn't take that long," Emil grunted.

The Dane huffed, "Jeez, I said I was sorry!"

The ride home was rather awkward. It was as if they had all lost their words by the second they even opened their mouths. Mathias pulled up to the driveway and sighed, "You guys go on ahead, I'll catch up with you later."

Everyone else exited the car except for Tino.

"Mathias," he stated with a concerned tone. "You haven't been acting like yourself. What's going on?"

"I just don't feel like pranking anyone this April Fools' day. It feels kind of empty, but I can make it through."

The Finnish adolescent nodded and scurried out of the vehicle. Mathias tilted his head back before heading into the building.

"It's about time you showed up, Mat," mumbled Berwald.

"You were waiting on me? Considering the fact that practically NO ONE loves me, that's hard to believe. And that's coming from the person who said it," the Dane jeered.

"Berwald, why would you say that," Tino exclaimed as he dropped his folder.

"Because it's true. I don't love him, Lukas doesn't love him, Emil doesn't love him… and you sure as hell don't love him either," stated the Swede with monotonous tone.

"You can't determine that," Emil grunted with fury in his lavender orbs.

"Nor can _you_ determine how others think," Mathias glowered back. The Icelander's eyes widened at the harsh comment.

"SKÍTHӔLL! I HATE YOU!" Emil screamed as he rushed up the stairs.

"BACK AT YOU, LITTLE S**T," the spiky blonde replied.

Mathias turned back to face an appalled Berwald, smirking.

"So you were right. Nobody loves me."

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

"Wow, I must say," Tino chuckled. That was quite the afternoon we had."

It was a guaranteed fact that Emil would refuse to come down to garnish supper after the given precedented moments… which was simply why they left his plate at his threshold.

"So, how was school? Considering the fact that you have pranked nobody to my knowledge," inquired Lukas sarcastically.

"That's sarcasm and I know it. If you want the answer, you have to at least sound like you care."

The Norwegian smirked and immediately replied, "Never mind. It's not worth it."

"Of course. If someone were to tell you to be honest, I bet that you'd have a heart attack and die. Right on the spot," the Dane snarled. "You never asked me to be honest," Lukas hummed. "You asked me to be sincere."

Mathias slammed his palms onto the erectile assembled wood and stuck his middle finger behind his back. Berwald glared and took a sharp inhale of disgust, Tino clasped his palmed over his mouth and the pale blonde's lackluster eyes widened. The Danish man skedaddled up the steps towards his room. The last thing he'll ever look at.

Mathias screeched at the top of his lungs as he threw his head back and clawed the flesh on his temples. Blood drew from the torn skin as he plopped his body onto his bed.

" _I'll do it right now. If it's a prank they want, it's a prank they'll get!_ "

The Dane yanked the hidden rope from under his bed and cackled madly as he tied the noose to the ceiling fan. The spiky blonde snatched a chair from his work desk and climbed onto it. Mathias glanced down at the floor with a joyfully forlorn smile.

"10… 9… 8..."

He continued to count his way down.

"7… 6… 5"

This was it. These were going to be the last words to run through his mind.

"4… 3… 2…"

It's going to be over now! The tormenting, the abuse, the pain… he's finally done.

"1."

The ivory hawser wrapped around the neck in such a hurry. Without a single doubt, the action was done. And that was simply all that mattered.

* * *

Lukas grinned as he messily splattered the ketchup onto the butterknife.

"Hey, big brother?"

The Norwegian perked his ears at the two words.

"Yes, lillebror?"

Emil rolled his eyes and sighed, "Mathias hasn't been answering his door for a few hours. Could you go check on him?" Lukas raised his eyebrows at the statement. "I don't see why you're concerned."

Emil growled with frustration, "Look, I know that he said some mean stuff, but can we please move past that? I'm really am starting to worry." "I was just about to go up there anyway," the eastern Scandinavian chuckled. He fondled the tomato-based dressing in his hands as he held the butterknife with it. The Icelander groaned, "Lukas… are you serious? He's had a rough day."

"It's all in good fun, Emil. Besides, it's payback for what he did to me," responded the older metaphorical sibling. Lukas pounded his feet against the flight of steps towards Mathias's room, quietly giggling. "I bet he's taking a nap," he murmured against his palm. As soon as he flicked his wrist around the knob, his happiness died.

(continued in chapter 2)

A/N: I truly apologize to those out there who are suffering from this issue and are actually having thoughts of taking their own life. Know that you are loved, acknowledged and there are people around you that love you. They can't stand to see you in pain. They truly wish you the best. Please don't think that you're worthless, unwanted, ugly, fat or anything that would hurt you. I seriously don't care about reviews at this point. Just please… don't do it. I beg of you. We ALL beg of you…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay. I found 2 people who followed the story on the same day i published it. That is so nice! I thought I'd continue… As always review, favorite, follow and enjoy~!**

 _The atmosphere was slightly dense. Norway could feel his heart pounding against his own chest as he took a tentative step towards the stairs. "He's here." The mahogany wood let out a small squeak as he placed his foot on the step. "Wh't w's th't, D'nmark," Sweden asked with a smirk as he cocked an eyebrow. Denmark glared at the Swedish man, knowing that Norway was practically professional at hiding like this. "Like I said, he's in the house," the shorter Danish repeated. Just like the events again, Sweden shoved Denmark out of the way and proceeded towards the stairs, finding a frightened Norwegian scrambling to his feet. But it was too late. Sweden tightly grasped Norway's calf and dragged him down. Denmark was appalled at Sweden's brutality. The spiky-haired blonde stormed over to the Swede and directed his gloved fisttowards his cheek. Sweden grasped the balled hand and brought his foot to Denmark's stomach. Denmark was flung onto his side, coughing and gagging. "Danmark," shouted Norway. He attempted to get on his feet, but Sweden wrapped his arms around Norway's waist, causing Norway to fall back, struggle and repeatedly shout and holler for Sweden to release him from the unbearingly painful squeezing. Iceland exhaustedly opened his eyes and raised his head. "Huh? What's all the noise?" He turned and scooted over to the edge of the bed. His puny feet embraced the frigid wooden floor as he strolled over towards the lank, skinny and towering door ahead of him, clutching a small stuffed puffin. He tightly grasped the railing and descended down the stairs to find Norway punching and kicking Sweden with all of his might, slung over Sweden's shoulder and Finland holding Denmark back from Sweden. Iceland could only look confused. " What are you doing? M-Mr. Sweden… please… let go of big brother," he absentmindedly told the taller man. "Apparently, you should ask Denmark about that. It seems that he has the answers," Sweden respectfully told Iceland. "Lillebror?" Norway turned his head, locking his dull, indigo eyes with tearful and frightened lilac orbs. Denmark rose from his position on the ground and hobbled over to the silver-haired child, wrapped his arms around the miniature body and let out a choked sob. "Forgive me" Denmark pleaded. "Mr. Denmark? What's going on?" Sweden closed his eyes briefly in sympathy as he carried the bleeding, exhausted Norway over his shoulder. Finland bowed his head and worriedly gave a glance as he proceeded to follow the taller man. "Lillebror," Norway thought to himself. "Be good to Denmark. Please." Iceland gasped as he caught Sweden carrying Norway towards the door. "Mr. Sweden! Please! Don't take him away…" The small child sobbed onto Denmark's shoulder and shouting incoherently. "He can't take him! It's not fair! Why did he beat up Big Brother?! WAAAH!" As Norway lifted his head, a tear escaped from his eye. "Danmark… Island… Please don't forget me."_

He knew he was too young to know the real reason. Norway brought his hand to one of his partially red eyes and wiped off some of the falling tears. It wouldn't do much, but he didn't want anyone noticing the dried tear stains. Once again, he rose to his feet and stumbled towards the door. And again, he grasped the renowned brass knob and rotated it. The towering wooden board was flung open carelessly as the Norwegian made his way down the stairs. As he descended, a small Finnish man was found, cooking the usual morning meal. "Oh! Hello, Norway~! I see that you've woken up," Finland said with an evidently bright sausage links continued to sizzle in the dark skillet as the grease stuck to its bottom. "I thought you were sick, so I'm glad that you got your rest." Norway felt a smile curl his lips. " Thanks, Finland," Norway replied. He really didn't want to talk to anyone today, especially Denmark. He had forgiven him already, but he just couldn't find the courage to talk to him. Not yet…

"Norway?"

Astonished, Norway turned his head to see his younger brother, Iceland. "H-hey," Norway said with a quivery voice. "Please don't be surprised when I do this, but…" The Icelandic teenager's cheeks changed from his normal pigment to a bright scarlet as he rushed over to the pale blonde and wrapped his lank arms around the other's waist. Water rushed to the edge of Iceland's violet eyes. "Fyrirgefðu. Ég vissi ekki…" the platinum blonde sobbed. Norway's dull indigo orbs softened. Even as an adolescent, he still hated his younger brother sob into him like this. Norway wrapped his left hand to the back of Iceland's neck and his right hand to Iceland's waist. The pale blonde man pressed his lips against the platinum blonde-haired boy's forehead. "Det var ikke din feil. Du visste ikke hva som foregikk." Iceland sobbed harder into Norway's chest and allowed the tears roll down his face. On the other side of the wall, Denmark sighed and forlornly walked down the hall. "Yep, this is my fault," he replied to himself. He ran a strong, but shaky hand through his blonde locks. He rose his head and locked his commonly lax aquamarine eyes with intimidating cobalt orbs. "Sve…" Sweden only passed him. He did not look like it, but he felt terrible. Sure, he didn't like Denmark, but he felt as if it was pretty low to take someone away from him. He knew Denmark loved Norway, and he still took him. "Danmark," Sweden scoffed. Denmark shielded his annoyed eyes away from the Swedish man. He didn't want to forgive Sweden, but some part of both his mind and heart told him that he had to let it all go. For Norway…

The sky converted from its beautiful loyal blue to the stunning navy coat. The stars, oh so high, shone with all of their radiance. The moon ascended to its peak as the night continued to pass. Norway had repeated what he had done earlier that day, sit on the bed and sob into his knees. His crying was interrupted by a soft knock on his door. The Norwegian was annoyed by this and continued to sob in his former position. The door was locked, so the person whom had knocked had no chance of entrance. There was another knock, but it was more audible and sounded more aggressive. Denmark uttered, "Norge, It's me." Norway clutched the ivory sheets. " **Go away** ," Norway's slightly muffled but still audibly frustrated voice boomed. "I don't want to talk to you." "You've been in there all day," Denmark whined. "It's time for some nation-to-nation interaction." "It's time for _you_ to leave _me_ alone," the pale blonde snarkily replied through his gritting teeth. Denmark huffed and pouted as an imaginary light bulb hovered over his spiky locks. "Fine, Norge," he wryly snickered. "I'll leave you alone." " **Thank you** ," the gloomy yet infuriated Norwegian man replied. The Danish man smirked as he tiptoed barely five centimeters away from the doorway. He tapped the edges of his shining black boots on the floor to create what sounded like despaired footsteps.

" _Did he really leave_ ," Norway asked himself.

He crept towards the door crack and gazed at both directions of the hallway and sighed. As he was just about to turn back to the bed, the deafening sound of boots against the floor. "HAHAHAHAHA! You totally fell for it," shouted the Dane as he tackled and pinned the Norwegian against the mattress. Norway's wide indigo orbs teared up in fear and anger. "Do you really think this is a time to mess with me," he furiously added. "DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS A TIME TO MESS WITH ME AFTER WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?" Norway forcefully shoved the Danish man off of him as an excessive amount of tears streamed down the evidently marked tracks. Denmark's eyes shadowed and his lips curved downwards as he lowered his head, avoiding Norway's tearful and furious gaze. "Yes, I know why you're angry with me," he confessed. "Of course you know, _Anko_ ," Norway growled. "You know because you're the one who just gave me away to Sweden…" Norway's face trailed from anger to a teary pained expression as he gripped the sides of his head, digging his fingernails into his scalp. Denmark could feel his heart break more and more as he saw the Norwegian break down. Tears had also rushed to the edge of Denmark's eyes. " Norge… You don't have to forgive me," he sobbed. Norway opened his eyes in bewilderment. Tears began to run down Denmark's cheeks. "I… I… I was so cruel…I gave you away... W-why… Why do you d-deal with me," he continued. Norway's glazed eyes softened. Denmark placed his hands over his forehead and sobbed. "I annoy you, I bother you, I'm really loud and… I already know you hate me!" "Anko… I-I… I don't hate you… I never hated you," Norway replied. "Yes… you do. I hear you say it every time I'm around you. Every time I told you that I loved you… you said you hated me! You-" "That's because I really love you! It never comes out right," Norway shouted as he wrapped his head around Denmark's head and brought it to his chest. "Norge?" "I don't hate you… I love you. _Jeg elsker deg_." Denmark's cheeks clad a blush which could rival a rose as he heard the three simple words come out of his mouth. He scooted his knees towards Norway and caressed his cheek. "Jeg elsker også dig," Denmark replied as he brushed his lips against Norway's. Norway let in a sharp intake of air before his eyes fluttered shut and returned the gentle kiss. Denmark pulled his head away from Norway's lips. His face was covered with a scarlet blush tainting his cheeks. "Danmark~" Norway mewled. Their lips reconnected. Denmark poked his tongue against Norway's soft lips, asking for entrance as he pressed a hand against his chest, making him lean down on the mattress. Norway's lips parted slightly and the wet muscles massaged against each other. As Denmark crawled on top of his Norwegian lover. "I love you," Denmark whispered. Norway's cheeks heated with a small smile.

 _I love you, too… Anko_

A/N: IT IS FINALLY DONE. There you have it, "200 years since…" I'm sorry it took so long. I am now currently working on my new fanfiction, "Not such an April Fools' Joke" Try to guess what happens.

Hint: It involves suicide.

Sorry about that hint… But as always, Fav, review and follow me! THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE!


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